Password ?
by xandromedax
Summary: The Fat Lady's POV from the moment of her creation to the second generation of the Potter and Weasley kids. What does she experience through 1000 years of guarding Gryffindor Tower, from the Founders to the Marauders to the Golden Trio and their kids?
1. i

A/N JK Rowling? Nope, just looked in the mirror, and found out I'm not.

Thanks to **snowvet** for giving me the idea for this. She's really great, check out her stories!

* * *

**Creation**

Pink, yellow, green. The colors swirled together on the palette, a myriad of shades.

The paintbrush hovered in midair, dabbing a touch of black here, adding a smear of blue there. Shafts of golden sunlight dappled the canvas, and a breeze fluttered the drapes, but the artist didn't notice, so intent was he in his work. A form was taking shape under the artist's watchful eye. The figure's blonde hair was neatly coiffed, her pink dress fanning across the bottom of the canvas, her mouth turned upwards in a slight smile. But it was not complete.

The shadows had lengthened on the stone floor when the paintbrush swept across the canvas one last time.

Finally.

The artist surveyed his work critically. The woman from his canvas was not the most beautiful, nor had he meant her to be. She was imperfect, like the Founders. They all had their flaws, so the painted lady would have hers. Too plump, but she would do her job well as one of the guardians at the magical school. She would last forever.

The artist smiled.


	2. ii

A/N I definitely don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**No Password, No Entrance**

The Fat Lady smoothed down her pink dress haughtily as she glared up the corridor. She was new to the magical school, but that was no reason why she should take cheek from those new students Godric had recruited. Her role was to guard the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, and no student was going to get past her strict watch. Although it was a trifle uninteresting, to sit in her portrait all day…Perhaps she could make friends with her painted companions. Before she could dwell on this, she heard a patter of footsteps and turned.

"Password?" she inquired, raising a painted eyebrow at the gulping first year who stood before her.

"Please, I need to get inside, I forgot my Transfiguration homework, and Professor Ravenclaw-"

"No password, no entrance," she said loftily. She was faintly surprised this student did not know; after all, the first years had been told the password this morning.

"_Intrepidi et certi_," another student said loudly, shoving the small first year aside.

"Correct," she said, inclining her head.

And the Fat Lady swung open.

* * *

A/N In case you're wondering, the password means "fearless and determined" in Latin.


	3. iii

A/N Okay, I've said this before. I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**Exception**

Years had passed since she had been posted at the secret entrance of Gryffindor Tower. Generations of small frightened first years grew up, graduated, and began working in the magical world. Or so she heard from other portraits. She could not leave her station often, for some student could be left outside, waiting to enter the Tower, so she relied on the word of her painted neighbors. But she would never complain; she was proud to have such an important job.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the frame of her portrait. Today, there was not much traffic entering her Tower. At times like these, with no students to liven up her day, not even that Peverell boy who was constantly getting on her nerves, she felt the boredom of sitting in her portrait. Even Peeves, that aptly named poltergeist brought by accident into the castle, was not hovering around her today, blowing raspberries as he usually did. In fact, it was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

A scream echoed from the depths of the castle. Instantly she was alert, automatically smoothing down her dress, and listening intently. The screams grew louder, and then there was commotion, the thundering of hundreds of feet. She waited and then-

"Professor Gryffindor is _dead!_ I found him-" There were more screams, and wails, shocked gasps from her neighboring portraits, calls for the rest of the Founders, but the Fat Lady could not bear to hear any more.

Godric Gryffindor, who had chosen her to guard the entrance to his Tower for eternity, was gone.

Painted tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her pink dress as she wailed loudly. All around her, the other portraits' voices rose in grief with hers.

She opened her eyes a fraction and saw a crowd of students standing in front of her.

For once, she did not ask for the password before letting them inside.

It was an exception, made in her misery.

* * *

A/N The Fat Lady has let people in without a password, like when Dumbledore died. So I figured she would do the same when Gryffindor died, too.

Don't forget to review!


	4. iv

A/N I don't own Harry Potter…

Thanks to **snowvet**, **bookworm4792**, and **she who reads13**

**

* * *

  
**

**Violet**

It was not long after the death of Godric that Rowena, Salazar, and Helga began to argue among themselves. Even the Fat Lady, though she seldom left her portrait, knew it. Their annoyance with each other and animosity seemed to seep though the stone walls of the school like noxious fumes from a potion, until everyone knew about their discord, even the students. Whispers in the halls reached her ears…

"Did you hear Professor Slytherin and Professor Ravenclaw today?"

"I know! Did you know about…"

"I heard that Professor Slytherin had a disagreement with Gryffindor before he died. He said that he would make a way so that only pure-bloods could come to Hogwarts."

"Really?"

Whether these hushed rumors were true, the Fat Lady neither knew nor cared. Her job was only to guard Gryffindor Tower, and now, in memory of the late Godric, she took her duty more seriously than ever. One gloomy morning in April, The Fat Lady was telling a crestfallen third year that the password had changed, when the portraits around her yelled in surprise. Distracted, the Fat Lady turned to see a painted witch, out of breath and red in the face who had rushed into a neighboring portrait.

"I just heard that Helena Ravenclaw left the castle today! She ran away early this morning without telling Rowena Ravenclaw!"

"What's your name?" the Fat Lady asked.

"Vi-Violet," the witch said, still gasping. "I live near the Great Hall." The Fat Lady leaned against her frame as she thought over the news Violet had brought. Normally she wouldn't care for gossip, but Rowena was her favorite Founder after Godric, of course. Helena had left? Interesting, indeed. How would the Baron take it? She heard that he had been Helena's suitor… perhaps Violet would know…

"Violet, how about we take a walk around the school and you can tell me all about it?" the Fat Lady suggested. Violet happily agreed, and in a rare act, the Fat Lady left her portrait. She could hear the other portraits muttering behind her, but she did not care.

And so it was through the news of Helena Ravenclaw that the Fat Lady and Violet forged a friendship that would last as long as the school did.

* * *

A/N Tell me what you think! Any feedback is welcome…


	5. v

A/N I don't own Harry Potter.

Thanks to snowvet.

* * *

**Ghosts**

It was all over the school. Rowena had died shortly after, it was rumored, the Baron had gone to find Helena. No one knew for sure what had happened, but a new ghost had come to haunt Hogwarts, gliding along the corridors with a look of haughtiness upon the pale imitation of Helena's face.

The Fat Lady had seen the ghost, restlessly wandering the school, staring at the students with an almost wistful look in her eyes. Remembering the few occasion when she had seen the ghost, the Fat Lady shuddered, and smoothed down her pink dress. Well, she mused, now two of the Founders had died. The only decent Founder left, in her opinion, was Helga, for no one could possible call Salazar _decent_. Sly and conniving, yes, but not a good person. She was glad that she was guarding the House of Gryffindor, instead of the House for that wizard with that cunning look in his eye.

Weeks later, another ghost joined the castle. It's eyes were wide and staring, it's robes horribly stained with ghostly blood and it was wearing heavy chains. It was a ghost that the ghost of Helena, now named the Grey Lady by the Ravenclaw students, took care to avoid. The Fat Lady was even a little frightened of it herself, though she knew the ghost could not do anything to her. After all, if that Baron had been a formidable person in life, he must certainly be worse in death.

The days slipped by in an endless routine, and though events in the school seemed to be returning to normal, the Fat Lady knew the time of the Founders was drawing to a close.

Soon, the only beings who would remember the power and greatness of the Founders would be painted people like herself who were created only through the Founder's talents and might.

It was, the Fat Lady reflected, fitting.


	6. vi

A/N I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**Nearly Headless Nick**

"Password?" The Fat Lady asked the prefect who stood before her. The prefect was at the head of a group of frightened first years, as happened every year.

"_Coraggio_," the prefect said confidently, thrusting his chest out. The Fat Lady obligingly swung open and the first years clambered inside, all except for one tiny boy who could not seem to crawl through the hole.

"Well, what's the matter?" The Fat Lady asked, exasperated, as she tried to shut and found a tiny body in the way.

"I-can't-get-in," the boy panted, "I-argghh!" Somebody on the other side must have dragged him in, for the Fat Lady heard a muffled thump and an exclamation of protest. She shook her head, disbelievingly. Never, in five hundred years, had a first year not been able to climb into her portrait hole.

--

It was for this reason that when a ghostly figure floated down the corridor toward her many years later, that she gave a sqwuak of surprise and recognition.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was beheaded! Yes, beheaded! It was truly ignominious, I tell you. The executioner could not even cut my neck properly," he sighed, pulling at the ruff around his neck. The Fat Lady resisted the urge to snort.

Of course, of all the people, it would be Nicholas who would be unfortunate.

But on the bright side, now Gryffindor Tower had an official ghost to represent it.


	7. vii

A/N I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**Miscreants**

It was well past midnight, and the Fat Lady was slumbering peacefully in her frame. Flickering torches dimly lit the long corridor that was lined with numerous paintings of aged witches and wizards, all snoring in the silence of the winter night. Suddenly, the Fat Lady felt a jerk from behind her and she awoke with a start to find her portrait being stealthily pushed open from inside the Tower. Some mischievous student, wandering the castle when they were supposed to be in bed, she thought angrily. She turned to see who it was, fully ready to chastise them for being out after curfew, but saw no one there. Impossible. The student was being clever and hiding from her.

"Who's there?" she called. Her voice echoed in the corridor, waking some of the other portraits who grunted sleepily.

Someone giggled, and the Fat Lady frowned.

"Show yourself! You're not allowed to be out after curfew, you know!" she said loudly.

All she heard in response was the quiet sound of footsteps slowly moving away from her. She sighed, and decided to scold whomever it was when they returned. After all, they had to tell her the password to get back in.

Several hours later, the Fat Lady had gotten weary of waiting, and had fallen into a light doze.

"Wake up!"

She jerked awake to see nothing in front of her again. Yet she had just heard someone telling her to wake up. Must be that miscreant student.

"Show yourself before you tell me the password," she said, her eyes narrowing.

She heard a sigh, then a rustling sound and two heads, then shoulders and then bodies appeared. She barely stifled a scream, but recognized the two seventh years from her House.

The boy stuffed the silvery cloak in his pocket and turned to face her, his fingers still intertwined with those of the girl standing next to him.

"Well?" the Fat Lady snapped. "What do you have to say for yourself, Potter? And you, Longbottom?"

"Can we just go in?" Anne Longbottom asked, glancing at that Potter boy. The Fat Lady sniffed. As if. Not before she lectured them.

"Not at all, young lady! What do you think you are doing, wandering the school after curfew with Potter? Don't you know any better? And Potter, what would your father say if he knew-"

Her tirade continued for the better part of an hour, by which point all the other portraits were awake and adding to her lecture and the two seventh years, if she hadn't know any better, seemed to be sleeping standing up. When she had finally finished and let them in the Tower, she nodded to herself, satisfied.

Well, _someone_ had to scold them when they got out of line.


	8. viii

A/N I don't own Harry Potter. By the way, the seventh years in the previous chapter are Harry's ancestors, in the 1700s.

Thanks to Jokegirl and snowvet.

* * *

**Interference**

Generations of students came, and went. She saw many branches of the same family and looked for similarities between members, secretly smiling to herself when she found them. She saw the annoyance and disappointment of students whose close friends from childhood or siblings were sorted into different Houses. She saw Headmasters and Headmistresses come and go too, some of which were better than others. The Fat Lady could only distinctly recall one Headmaster that had been particularly unpopular-a former Slytherin named Phineas Nigellus Black.

He had passed her portrait on more than a few occasions when he had been a student, a sly look in his gray eyes. Of course, he had been looking for the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower, as many Slytherins had done before him, no doubt hoping to ambush Gryffindors leaving or slip in and sabotage the Tower. Whenever he had passed, she had instantly pretended to be fast asleep, acting like all the other portraits around her, and he always left disappointed. Luckily, no Gryffindor students were ever around whenever he decided to visit, although this was because of Nearly Headless Nick, who forewarned students of the hostile Slytherin presence, and then had to dissuade them from dueling Black.

So she was surprised when she heard from Violet that Black had been named Headmaster. But, she reflected, this was most likely due to the influential connections he had on the board of governors and in the Ministry. Though he was intensely disliked within the student body for his rules which obviously favored Slytherins, and his complete disdain of the students' opinions, the Fat Lady didn't care much about him until the day when the position that she had held for eight hundred years was threatened. Then she began hating him with a passion.

"The order is, that you are to be removed with all possible speed. This decision was reached by our great Headmaster Black, because it is unfair that Gryffindor Tower should have a painted guardian while other Houses do not. You will be replaced with bare wall that will be opened with a password to admit students," the caretaker read to her from an official-looking scroll.

"Nonsense," the Fat Lady snapped, incensed. She quivered with indignation. The idea! Removing her, a part of the ancient school from the beginning? "I been here for eight hundred years, placed here by the wand of Godric Gryffindor himself, and _nothing_ can remove me."

When Black heard of this, he ordered the caretaker to take her down that very afternoon. However, no matter how hard the caretaker tried, he could not move her portrait. He sweated, toiled, neglected his other duties so the school became progressively filthier, but still could not lift even a corner of her frame.

The Gryffindor students were furious, but the Fat Lady held her head up victoriously, for what Black did not know was that Godric had enough foresight to place a particularly strong charm on her portrait, so that no one, except someone who would be exceptionally talented, could lift it.

There were, after all, many things those Slytherins did not know.


	9. ix

A/N I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**Dumbledore**

Usually the Fat Lady did not notice much about the first years, except for the fact that they were small and frightened, but once she had opened to allow the first years to enter the Tower and gasp at the common room, she saw with exasperation two new students who were not going in, but were still standing in the corridor, talking animatedly.

"Albus, do you think so?" a boy with a greenish tinge to his skin asked excitedly.

"Yes, Elphias, I think it's a valid point-" another boy with auburn hair replied.

"Well? Do I stay open all night, waiting for you two to finish your conversation?" she said acidly. She was not in a good mood; the monks in the portrait next to her had confiscated her stash of wine bottles that she had been sharing with Violet, and she felt as though she needed it now.

"Oh, I'm very sorry," Albus said, giving her an apologetic look. "We did not realize you were waiting for us-"

"And I still am," she snapped. Albus nodded, then climbed through the portrait hole with Elphias following him, still intent on their conversation,

--

She saw Albus and Elphias and even Albus' uncouth younger brother, Aberforth, throughout the years, but even she, as a portrait, was struck with what Violet told her of Albus' talents. He was the brightest student in the school, earning awards and gaining recognition, making her so proud that he was in her House that she often boasted to the other portraits.

Years later, when he became Headmaster, after overcoming the deaths of his family members, she thought there was no one who deserved it more.

He was, she knew, the greatest headmaster the school had ever had, and would have.


	10. x

A/N I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

**Lies**

The rumors were sweeping the school. She didn't even need Violet for her gossip anymore. Dangerous things were happening in the castle, things that made her tremble with fear, though she was a painting and could not really be harmed.

She knew, somehow, when the students began murmuring about some terrifying monster of Slytherin's that was petrifying people, that the rumors were true. She remembered what she had heard about, nine hundred years before. She had been witness to the old animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin, to their fierce arguments about who should be admitted to the school. She knew that Slytherin had vowed to resort to _some_ measure to keep only pure bloods in the school, angering Gryffindor greatly and contributing to his sudden death. Now it seemed that measure had come to pass, almost one thousand years after it was planted. The only mystery was what had triggered it, but the Fat Lady did not dwell on this. The Founders were not there to see the chaos, but she was, and she was afraid.

She opened and shut herself quickly when students entered the Tower, and absolutely refused to let any student out after curfew. If they did slip out while she was sleeping, she let Dumbledore know the next day through Violet, and the erring student was lectured and given a warning about the risks they were taking. Despite this, some students from her House were attacked, and the mood within the Tower and in the school darkened. Students traveled in groups, looking warily around corners and staying quiet in the hallways.

Until one day, a student from Ravenclaw was killed, and the school went into shock. There were hushed whispers that the school would be shut down, that Hogwarts would be closed forever. But then, a student from her own House, Hagrid, was blamed for the attacks and expelled. She was furious; it was Slytherin's monster, why would a Gryffindor know about it and attack people with it? Didn't people use logic? She wished the monster would have attacked when the Founders had still been alive, for they would have known instantly that it was Slytherin, and not blamed some poor student from her House.

But of course no one listened to her, except for Dumbledore, but even he could not sway Headmaster Dippet's decision, especially after the attacks stopped when Hagrid was expelled.

But she always knew it was a lie.


	11. xi

A/N I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

**Weasley**

"She said no?"

"Yes. Can we stop talking about this now?" a red headed boy said to his friend through gritted teeth.

The Fat Lady watched the two seventh year boys approach as she listened to their conversation. Though the job of opening and shutting may be repetitive and a trifle boring, it was always interesting to hear the many conversations that students had in front of her. In fact, she learned more about the Hogwarts population this way that Violet could ever tell her.

"Well, Septimus, what did you expect? You might be a pure-blood, but you're a Weasley, and _she's_ Cedrella Black. A Slytherin and a _Black. _ They're pure-blood aristocracy if there ever was one."

"But she seems interested," Weasley sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "She looks at me in Transfiguration all the time. But when I ask her out, she says no."

"Maybe she's looking at you in disgust," his friend said, his mouth twitching. Weasley glared at him before giving the Fat Lady the password and climbing inside.

--

The Fat Lady heard voices down the long corridor, a girl's giggle, and a boy's low tones. She waited impatiently. She wanted to take a nap, but she knew if she did, she would only get woken up again. Finally, two students rounded the corner and walked toward her, their fingers interlaced.

What? Wasn't it that Weasley boy and who was this dark haired girl? She watched as they kissed goodbye and then the girl turned to leave.

"I'll see you on Saturday, Cedrella," Weasley called after her.

Cedrella? As in Cedrella Black? A Gryffindor and a Slytherin were dating?

Her mind teeming with this latest news, she absentmindedly opened, not even realizing that Weasley had not told her the password and was still gazing dreamily down the corridor.


	12. xii

A/N I don't own Harry Potter

Thanks to my generous reviewers: dancergirl7, Spicysweetchica101, JazzPotato67, and snowvet.

Since we are now getting to the present, the next chapter will be (drumroll please…) the Marauders!

I will take any requests for any particular scenes about them you want to see. Go ahead and tell me!

* * *

**Love-Birds**

"Arthur, where are we going?"

"Shh, Molly dear, you might wake the portraits up."

"But-"

The Fat Lady grunted in her sleep and shifted around in her frame, trying to find a comfortable position. She had been sleeping peacefully, but the faint sound of voices had woken her up. They were probably other portraits talking-

No, wait, the voices had talked about "portraits". Other portraits never referred to themselves as such. Painted people considered themselves as good as flesh-and-blood people, except they were restricted to a smaller space, that's all. It had to have been students. She opened her eyes, hoping to catch the students, but the hallway in front of her was empty and silent, and the other portraits were snoring peacefully. She pursed her lips. Lately, she had not been able to catch couples sneaking out at night, since they were careful not to wake her up. And when they came back in, she was usually too sleepy to yell at them before opening.

But not tonight. She was wide awake now, and would have no problems scolding _this_ pair of love birds that had just left. It had been a while since she had last done it, a few hundred years at least, and she was rather eager to give them a good long scold. With this in mind, she settled herself down and waited.

It was nearing dawn, and the Fat Lady was becoming very cranky. She had stayed up almost the whole night and those students had not come back yet! Just then, there were quick hurried footsteps and a girl rounded the corner and rushed toward her, her brown eyes wide and her red hair flying.

"Young lady-"

"Did he come here?" Molly Prewett asked her frantically.

"What are you talking about?" the Fat Lady asked, now very annoyed.

"Arthur! We-we got caught by that awful caretaker and Arthur told me to run back here, and that he'd come as soon as he could," Prewett said, tears sparkling in her eyes. "It was all my fault, I was talking too loudly-"

"Now you have learned your lesson, haven't you?" the Fat Lady said, seizing the opportunity. "What did you and that Weasley think was going to happen? He's just like his father, that one. Only thinking about girl, ignoring everything else."

"It wasn't Arthur's fault, it was mine! Don't you dare insult him!" the red headed girl fired back, clenching her fists.

"Well then, young lady, we'll just wait for your lover boy to come back here so he can also benefit from what I want to tell you both about the utter lack of judgment the two of you displayed tonight." The Fat Lady sniffed and crossed her plump arms as the Prewett girl sat on the floor, wiping her eyes.

An hour later, a tired looking Arthur Weasley shuffled toward them, his eyes fixed on the ground. Upon seeing him, Prewett gave a cry of joy and dashed toward him. His face lit up when he saw her and the Fat Lady felt her resolve falter just a little bit. They were young and in love, why not let them go for once?

No! She could not do that. They had been practically courting trouble with their actions. They deserved the lecture she going to give them, she thought decisively as Weasley and Prewett kissed passionately.

She cleared her throat loudly, and they both turned to face her, Weasley wincing as he did so.

"Well, what do you both have to say for yourselves?" she began, pinning first Prewett, then Weasley, with a stern look.

Weasley groaned in answer.

The next day, everyone wondered why the Fat Lady was in such a terrible mood, yet smiled smugly whenever she saw the inseparable couple, Weasley and Prewett.


	13. xiii

A/N I don't own Harry Potter

I would like to thank **dancergirl7, Spicysweetchica101, beachesq, CountryObsessedTeen, ermireallydontcare, JazzPotato67, **and** VikkiHSM** for reviewing and for their ideas.

This is a sort of intro to the Marauders for the Fat Lady, but the next few chapters will be them coming back after being animagi/werewolf, Lily/James scenes, and a few more.

Couldn't resist putting these lyrics in…

* * *

"_I'm a troublemaker_

_Never been a faker_

_Doing things my own way_

_Never giving up,"_

_-Troublemaker, Weezer_

**Troublemakers**

The Fat Lady noticed that trouble-prone group of first years right away for two reasons. They seemed to love flaunting the rules, even as first years, and were completely unabashed when they were caught, at least according to what Violet told her.

They were always waking her up at night to sneak out, and they were _always_ under some Invisibility Cloak. The Invisibility Cloak was not new to her; she distinctly remembered a few times in the past few hundred years when other mischievous students would leave the Tower, and then reappear in front of her. She shrugged, and supposed they were all from the same family.

Two of them seemed to be the ringleaders of the group, a boy with messy hair and glasses, and another boy who was very good looking even for an eleven year old. Two more unlikely boys gravitated to their group, a quiet one with sandy hair and a small, pudgy one who was perpetually afraid, until she wondered why he was even a Gryffindor. But after all, it was the Sorting Hat who made the decision. She wondered if it was getting slightly addled after so many years of work.

It was the early hours of the morning a few weeks into the school year and the Fat Lady was deeply asleep, when there was a scuffle in the corridor in front of her.

"Shut up Peter! You're making too much noise!"

"Sorry! I tripped."

"It's okay, don't apologize to Sirius. He'd just upset the house elves wouldn't give him any more food since they thought it would ruin his appetite for breakfast."

Someone snickered.

"I said shut up! We have to be quiet or I can't trick the Fat Lady."

"What?"

The footsteps stopped and for a few minutes there was no sound but excited whispers.

Meanwhile, the Fat Lady was happily dreaming of the next Christmas party she and a few other portraits would have when a cold gust of wind hit her face. She shivered, dreaming now of a ghost who had come to haunt her, and she rushed away in her dream, but the cold wind kept following her! No matter where she ran there was the cold, cold wind and now there was a voice too…

"_It is I, the Bloody Baron…Do what I tell you or you will end like me…"_

The Bloody Baron! The Fat Lady woke with a start as her shrill scream rent the air.

Nothing. Her eyes scanned the corridor, but there was nothing except annoyed paintings waking up to see what the fuss was.

And then she knew. Those horrible boys…

"Show yourself, hooligans, or I won't let you in!"

Snorts of laughter, and then a rustling sound as four heads appeared in midair. The messy haired boy's mouth was twitching, but the good looking one was smirking broadly at her. The other two were not smiling, in fact the sandy haired one looked ashamed.

"You thought that was funny?" Her voice was a whisper. If only Dumbledore had not abolished the practice of hanging misbehaving students by their ankles.

No one answered.

"What are your names? I need to know so I can report all of you to the Headmaster. None of you should be wandering the school after curfew. It's for your own good, you know. Dumbledore can deal with you."

"What? No!" the sandy haired one exclaimed, looking horrified.

"Aww, come on, uh, _Miss_," the good looking one said, giving her a winning smile. "It was all just a joke. You can forgive me, can't you? A beautiful lady like you can't hold a grudge." He winked at her and despite herself, the Fat Lady felt herself blushing. The nerve! But still, he had called her beautiful…

"Alright, I'll let you go, just this once. But the next time you leave after curfew, I'm reporting all of you! No matter what the circumstances!" She wagged a plump finger at them as she opened.

"Go ahead and report me, Lady. I don't mind getting into _sirius_ trouble," the good looking one said, grinning, as he climbed through the hole.

"Why you little-"

"No, no, his name is _Sirius_ Black. He wasn't making fun of you," the sandy haired one said hurriedly as he too climbed in.

Black? A Black, a member of that terrible Black family? Relative of that Headmaster who had tried to remove her? In Gryffindor? What was the school coming to? And she had let him get away instead of punishing that nasty boy as he deserved? Oh the horror!

And the Fat Lady fainted from shock and shut with a snap, leaving Peter Pettigrew standing outside with a look of surprise on his round face.


	14. xiv

A/N I don't own Harry Potter

Thanks to snowvet, CountryObsessedTeen, ermireallydontcare, and dancergirl7.

I know people want to see a full moon scene, and I promise that will come up. So will the Lily/Snape scene, and a few others. But I won't be updating for a while because I have AP exams for the next two weeks.

* * *

**"She's Just in Denial"**

The Fat Lady tapped her plump fingers against a glass that she was holding. To amuse herself, she had been trying to sing in a voice that was high pitched enough to make the glass shatter, but to no avail. Unfortunately her voice was not high enough, though her neighboring portraits assured her that it was. No matter. She would keep trying. She opened her mouth, preparing to sing again, when she heard loud voices down the corridor, and she put the glass behind her hurriedly, and smoothed out her dress. It would not do for students to see her attempting to break a glass, of all things, out of boredom.

"No Potter! What did Severus ever do to you?" a second year girl with dark red hair was saying furiously. A boy with messy hair was hurrying to keep pace with her long strides that told the Fat Lady quite clearly that the girl was only too anxious to be out of the boy's company. The Fat Lady snorted. She knew that boy. It was that Potter boy who got on her nerves and who was always getting to trouble with his friends. And apparently someone else thought he was annoying too.

"Well, he _asking _for it! He said-"

"I don't care what he said! He didn't hex you, at least! You've been hexing him nonstop for _absolutely _no reason since you met him!" the red head said angrily, her face flushed and her green eyes blazing. "_Hippogriff,_" The girl added to Fat Lady.

She was quite pretty; the Fat Lady could see why Potter seemed more occupied with gaping at her face than listening to what she was saying

The Fat Lady swung shut after she stormed into the common room and faced Potter who was standing outside, his mouth half open.

"Well-but-she completely missed the point," he sputtered, running a hand through his hair.

"Well Potter? Are you going in?" The Fat Lady asked, an eyebrow raised. Potter stared at her, then grinned.

"Yeah. Yeah, she probably wants to see me again. She really likes me you know. She's just in denial," he assured her.

The Fat Lady's mouth twitched, but she managed to keep a straight face and let him in.

On her right, a witch sitting in an armchair held up a handful of painted gold coins.

"Ten galleons that they will get together before they graduate," she told the Fat Lady, grinning.

Ten galleons….she could get wine from the portraits downstairs. And that girl seemed to hate Potter too much to ever date him.

"Deal."


	15. xv

A/N I don't own Harry Potter.

I would like to thank snowvet, CountryObsessedTeen, ermireallydontcare, VikkiHSM, dancergirl7 and JazzPotato67.

* * *

**Mistletoe Magic**

The Fat Lady heard giggles, mingled with the sound of a boy's voice, and she jerked awake. She had fallen asleep over her sixth goblet of wine that she had been drinking in celebration of Christmas.

The voices grew louder, mush to the Fat Lady's chagrin, and she screwed up her eyes, trying to block them out. She was feeling a headache coming on, and those voices seemed unnaturally loud. Someone gasped loudly, and the Fat Lady opened her eyes, wondering what had happened. She hoped the gasp wasn't because she looked a mess after her unusually wild evening.

A few feet away from her stood fourteen year old Sirius Black and a blonde girl. They seemed to be struggling to…walk another step?

The she realized what had happened. There was a sprig of mistletoe above their heads, and some prankster had put a charm on it so the people who walked under the mistletoe would not be able to move until they had kissed. It was an old prank, as old as the halls of Hogwarts itself, and the Fat Lady felt the urge to roll her eyes.

"What is going on?" the blonde girl said, annoyed, as she tried to step forward and was thrown back. Black caught her before she hit the floor, and the girl's cheeks pinked.

"Well," Black said, "there's mistletoe above us, so I suppose we have to…well-"

"What?" the girl shrieked. She was bright red and her mouth was open in shock.

"We'll be stuck here forever, otherwise," Black said, casually examining the mistletoe. He didn't seem too bothered. In fact, he was smirking.

The girl mouthed soundlessly for a few moments, staring at Black.

"Come on," he said, grinning at her. "I don't bite."

The girl reddened further, but crossed her arms. "Fine. Make it quick, and don't tell-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Black leaned forward and kissed her.

A few days later, she felt her portrait being pushed open late in the evening, and looked to see who was leaving.

The flaming torches in the corridor lit the back of two students's heads: one with long shining blonde hair, and another with shaggy dark hair.

The Fat Lady's curious gaze traveled downward and she smiled as she saw the linked fingers.

* * *

A/N Next is a full moon scene!


	16. xvi

**Disclaimer: Do I really have to say this? I. Don't. Own. Harry. Potter.**

**A/N** **I would like to thank snowvet, dancergirl7, GoddessofYouth, JazzPotato67, mystery muffin, farwalker, mimbulus-mimbletonia, fafa109, and ermireallydontcare. **

**Just so you know, this full moon scene is the first full moon the Marauders ever helped Remus through.**

**

* * *

**

**Lunatics**

The corridor was ominously dark, lit only by the dim flickering lights of the torches. The whole school, including the portraits, was sound asleep. The Fat Lady was not an exception. Her snores filled the corridor, masking the creaking sound her portrait made when an unseen person carefully pushed it forward on its hinges.

"Can't believe she didn't wake up," a quiet voice muttered.

"Obviously. It means that luck is on our side tonight. This is it, mate."

Someone whimpered.

"Calm down Peter," the second voice whispered. "Remus won't hurt you. We-"

The Fat Lady shifted suddenly in her frame and grunted in her sleep, causing the voice to abruptly fall silent.

A cloak whispered against the ground, and after a few moments, three sets of footsteps crept stealthily away.

The first rays of dawn were peeking through the windows when the sounds of shuffling feet woke the Fat Lady.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" she said loudly. She thought she knew who it was. Those four troublesome boys, who enjoyed waking her up at odd hours. She wasn't amused.

"Can we please go in?" a tired voice asked from in front of her. The Fat Lady squinted at the invisible person, surprised. Surely those boys wouldn't sound so exhausted after a night of only wreaking havoc on the school? They never did, usually. After five years of those clowns, she knew it would take much more to tire them out.

"Not until you show yourself," she said firmly, crossing her plump arms. Someone sighed heavily, and she strained to hear the muttered conversation that was taking place. A moment later, three boys appeared in front of her as fifteen-year-old James Potter pulled off his Invisibility Cloak.

The Fat Lady very nearly screamed. That sickly looking Lupin boy was missing, but Pettigrew, Black and Potter was covered in deep scratches and bruises. Black had a long gash across his face. Half of Potter's face was dark with a large bruise, and he was bleeding from a split lip. Pettigrew seemed to be the least injured, but the most nervous. He chewed his fingernails as the Fat Lady's horrified eyes rested on each boy in turn.

Despite their injuries and the tiredness in their eyes, Black and Potter were smiling broadly at her. They looked satisfied, _content. _The Fat Lady couldn't imagine why.

"What in the name of Merlin happened? What were you lunatics doing all night?" she chastised.

Black snorted with laughter. "Lunatics. That's a good one."

The Fat Lady glared at him and opened her mouth again, but Black held up his hand, which, she noticed, had a bloody handkerchief tied around it.

"Not now, lady," Black said, glancing over his shoulder. "Let us in, please?" He grinned disarmingly at her, and in spite of her lecture that she had in mind for them, she sighed and relented.

Potter was the last one to climb through the hole, but he looked directly at her before doing so. "Don't tell anyone. Tell on us the other times, if you want, but not this."

Perhaps it was the pleading look in Potter's eyes that made her nod.

And for the next two years, the Fat Lady watched as the group of friends would come to her portrait at dawn once a month and one boy short, with varying injuries. But they always had a satisfied, if tired, smile on their faces. And Lupin would always come back the next day and they would greet him like brothers. It was a mystery, but not one she cared to solve. She kept their secret.

She had never seen a group of friends with such a strong bond, and somehow, she knew she never would again.

* * *

**A/N Next up is the Snape/Lily fight in front of the Fat Lady. I don't have my DH book at the moment, and won't for a while, so if it's not too much trouble, could someone please type that scene from DH and send it to me? I need it to write the next chapter.**

**thanks x**


	17. xvii

**A/N I don't own Harry Potter.**

**I would like to thank mystery muffin, JazzPotato67, ermireallydontcare, GoddessofYouth, Alice Acid, snowvet, xXxHadesInkspellxXx, dancergirl7, Imaginewhirledpeas, and Jokegirl, for their reviews.**

**A special thanks to GoddessofYouth, dancergirl7, and L6ur6 for sending me the DH scene. Without them, this chapter would not exist.**

**Anything you recognize is JK Rowlings'.**

**

* * *

**

**Shattered**

It was OWL week, and the fifth years were in a particularly bad mood. Their gloom seeped through the Tower, infecting even the Fat Lady, so she did not consider it unusual that the few fifth years she knew comparatively well, the Marauders and Lily Evans, also seemed sulky. That is, until a fifth year student wearing the Slytherin robes appeared outside her portrait one evening.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, hands on her hips as she glared at the hook nosed Slytherin. "Get back to your dungeon!"

The student spared her a glance of disdain before sneering, "I'm not here to see _you._"

The nerve! She would not tolerate this! But how did this Slytherin discover the secret entrance to the Tower?

"I don't know how you got here, but-" The Fat Lady began furiously.

"I wouldn't expect you to," the Slytherin said smoothly, his black eyes glittering.

The Fat Lady's mouth opened in indignation. _Never_, had her intelligence been so insulted! And by some upstart Slytherin! She had always known that House was bad news. Before she could reply, a girl spoke from behind the hook nosed boy.

"Er…Fat Lady? Can I go in? _Unicorns_." The Fat Lady opened to allow the fifth year girl in, but the Slytherin grabbed the girl's arm as she walked toward the portrait hole.

"You're Mary MacDonald?" he asked her, his black eyed fixed on hers. The Fat Lady noticed fear in the girl's face as she nodded.

"Find Lily Evans and tell her that I wish to speak with her here," the Slytherin said, with a note of desperation in his voice that the Fat Lady was surprised to hear. How interesting…

Mary MacDonald nodded slowly, and backed away from the boy, but he grabbed her arm again as a thought struck him.

"Tell her that I'll sleep out here if she doesn't come," the boy added. Emotions flitted across his face as his calm, cool façade crumbled. MacDonald nodded again, and freed her arm from the Slytherin's grip before rushing inside the Tower.

"So, here to speak with Lily Evans?" the Fat Lady said calmly, smoothing down her dress as she watched the Slytherin. He seemed distracted and was twisting his hands together. "Popular girl, that one," she continued. "A lot of boys like her. Potter, especially."

The boy's black eyes hardened, and his hand twitched toward his pocket. "Shut up," he said crisply. The Fat Lady was about to reply to this rude remark, but squawked in surprise instead as she felt herself being pushed open suddenly.

Lily Evans stepped out and stood in front of the Fat Lady, watching the Slytherin, who looked stricken.

"I'm sorry," The boy said, breaking the silence. The Fat Lady noticed with surprise that he seemed sincere, and she wondered what that boy had done…

"I'm not interested." Lily Evans' voice was flat, emotionless.

"I'm sorry!" The Slytherin said loudly, his voice echoing around the corridor. His black eyes were wide in desperation. All the other portraits in the corridor were silent, watching the scene.

"Save your breath." Though she didn't like this Slytherin, the Fat Lady winced at Lily's blatant rejection of the boy. But the Fat Lady supposed that the Slytherin had done something truly terrible to be treated like this, since Lily Evans was generally a nice girl.

"I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here," Lily continued, arms folded, as she watched the Slytherin.

The boy found his voice again. "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just-"

"Slipped out?" Lily said coolly. There was no pity in her voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends – you see, you don't even deny it!" Her voice rose accusingly. "You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"

The Fat Lady cringed involuntarily. This boy was a follower of You-Know-Who? That terrible wizard who killed people and did other horrible deeds? No wonder that boy had called her Mudblood. He was showing his true colors. And no wonder Lily was acting so brusque with him. The Fat Lady came back from her thoughts in time to see the expression on the Slytherin's face. He looked beaten, as though his whole world had come crashing down around him. His mouth opened and closed, but he could not seem to find words.

"I can't pretend anymore," Lily said with finality. "You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

"No-listen, I didn't mean-"

"-to call me Mudblood?" Lily said, turning slightly, and the Fat Lady could see her raise her eyebrows. "But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?" Lily gave him one last contemptuous look as he struggled to speak, then turned toward the Fat Lady who hastily opened for her.

After she had gone, the Fat Lady faced the boy - Severus - who had covered his face in his hands. She felt embarrassed. She had just seen what had obviously been a friendship break apart, though she really could not understand how a girl like Lily could have been friends with a boy like Severus. And she had just seen this boy at his lowest point, at his most unguarded and vulnerable. Though he was evidently a shady person, and had insulted her prior to his meeting with Lily, she could not help but feel sorry for him. After all, he had just lost a person important to him, and the Fat Lady knew how that felt, having lost Godric years ago. And perhaps Lily had been his only friend. The Fat Lady could understand how that could be, given the way he had insulted her intelligence earlier. She cleared her throat, and the boy looked up.

His face was scarlet with fury and sorrow, but his eyes were bright with raw emotion, and, the Fat Lady supposed, unshed tears.

"You should go back to your common room, now," she said gently. Without a word, the boy turned and stalked away, his black robes swishing behind him.

The Fat Lady sighed. She had seen many tragic things during her time at Hogwarts, but scenes like this were perhaps the most tragic of all. After all, friends were an integral part of life at Hogwarts, and to watch a friendship shatter before her eyes was heartbreaking.

She hoped she would never have to see something like this again.

* * *

**A/N What do you think? It was a little hard for me to write something depressing like this, because I'm in a really good mood after my Prom and Graduation. Please don't forget to review!**

**Next up is a Lily/James scene!**


	18. xviii

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**A/N I would like to thank echoing noise, snowvet, ermireallydontcare, GoddessofYouth, dancergirl7, JazzPotato67, and TheGirlWhoReadsWarriors.**

**

* * *

**

**Golden Promises**

It was January, and the Fat Lady could not wait for the school year to end. Usually, she missed the students, since they kept her entertained, but she was counting down the years until that group of four boys, the "Marauders", left. They were getting on every last one of her nerves. Always waking her up at night, to go on their mysterious outings, and coming back either scratched and bruised or with armfuls of cakes, sweets, butterbeer, and once she was sure she saw Sirius Black carrying several bottles of Firewhisky. She then had to sleep during the day, but then got interrupted by the endless stream of students who wanted to enter or leave the Tower. But of course she never said a word about this to Dumbledore or Minerva McGonagall, since the boys had begged her not to, saying that a beautiful lady like her should not tell tales-it would ruin her perfection. Well, she didn't believe them, but it nice to be complimented, so she kept her silence. And though she would never admit it to anyone, she had grown rather fond of them. As she thought about this, a voice that was unmistakably Lily Evans' rang angrily down the corridor.

"So, you hugged and kissed her?"

"You're not mad, are you?" Potter said anxiously, hurrying to keep pace with Evans' long strides. The Fat Lady remembered, from some recess of her memory, that this had happened before…

"No."

The Fat Lady snorted. Of course the girl was furious. Anyone could see it from the way she was walking so fast that her hair was fanning behind her and her cheeks were flushed.

"Then why haven't you said more than ten words to me all morning?" Potter demanded, seizing Evans' arm and pulling her around so she faced him. Evans freed her arm from his grip and glared at him.

"Maybe it's because today it's my birthday? And instead of at least wishing me a Happy Birthday, you hug some other girl and kiss her, _right in front of me_? When we have been going out for a month? If you want to date her, instead of me, why didn't you say so?"

The Fat Lady felt as though she had been hit over the head. How in the name of Merlin-?

She snuck a glance to the old witch to her right, who was watching her and grinned toothlessly. The Fat Lady pretended she hadn't seen her and looked straight ahead.

Potter gaped at Evans, his mouth half open, as Evans crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"If I didn't want to date you, would I have asked you out for five straight years? And I hugged Amy because she was upset, and I only kissed her cheek. That doesn't mean I fancy her."

"Fine," Evans said, starting to turn away, but Potter caught her and forced her to face him again.

"What are you doing? I came up here to get my Charms homework," Evans protested.

"I'm showing you something. I _didn't_ forget your birthday, Lily. I was just waiting for the right moment, but I guess that's now." Potter took a deep breath as Evans watched him critically.

Potter flourished his wand, and then conjured a large bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley, tulips, and fragrant red roses that appeared in midair, elegantly wrapped in an iridescent lavender covering. Potter caught it and presented it to Evans, who had covered her mouth with her hands, and appeared to be speechless. The Fat Lady, too, was speechless. She had never seen more beautiful conjured flowers, at least any that were conjured by a student.

"Those-those are my three favorite flowers. You-you remembered!" Evans gasped. She took the flowers, and buried her face in them, inhaling deeply.

Potter smiled at the sight, then reached into his pocket and took out a small velvet box.

"Those flowers are charmed to never wilt, or need water. I remember you said once that you get depressed when flowers wilt and die," he told her, and Evans' eyes lit up with joy. "And I have one more present," he added.

"This is for you. I had it made," he said hesitantly, unsure of her reaction, as he opened the box.

Evans gasped again, and almost dropped her flowers. The Fat Lady gasped too. A circlet of gold shimmered from inside the box, large enough for a wrist, but thin enough to look pretty, instead of vulgar.

"It's a bracelet. It's goblin made, so it will repel dirt, and your name is engraved on it," Potter told her, as Evans gazed at it.

"James, You didn't have to…" she breathed.

"I wanted to and I did," he said firmly. He took it out from the box and slipped it on the wrist she held out mutely.

"It's so beautiful, James," Evans whispered, turning her wrist and watching the bracelet shine in the light from the torch above her head.

"Beautiful, like you. Do you forgive me now?" Potter said at once.

Evans looked at him, smiling playfully. "I think you know the answer to that. And how am I ever going to thank you?"

"I have a few ideas," Potter murmured, gazing at her lips.

Evans smiled again, and dropped her flowers as she kissed him hard, twining her hands into his hair, the gold of her bracelet flashing in between Potter's dark locks. Potter kissed her just as enthusiastically, and backed her into the wall, his hands on her shoulders.

The Fat Lady felt her eyes water for some reason, and wiped them defiantly. She didn't know why she should be so affected by the scene in front of her. She had seen hundreds of couples kiss and make up in front of her, but had usually interrupted them. She somehow didn't want to, for this particular happy couple. Even if she was going to lose some gold on this pair. Perhaps it was because she had watched, more then most other students, Potter, Evans, and their friends grow up, and felt rather close to them.

"Oi!"

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were walking toward Evans and Potter. Pettigrew was not with them, the Fat Lady noted.

"We just came back from lunch, you know! And it was good! Will you two love-birds stop snogging before I throw up on the floor?" Black called jokingly.

Evans and Potter broke apart, still smiling at each other, and Evans picked up her flowers, blushing.

"Well, thanks James," Evans said shyly.

"No problem, Lils," James answered. He didn't seem able to stop smiling.

"Lily, aren't you getting late for Ancient Runes?" Black said with a barely concealed grin.

Evans's expression switched abruptly to tone of horror. "Merlin's pants! See you later!" she shouted as she dashed down the corridor and vanished from sight.

"So you gave it to her?" Black asked Potter, grinning.

"Yep," Potter replied, as Lupin gave the Fat Lady the password and the three boys climbed through the portrait hole.

After they had gone, the Fat Lady knew she couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. She turned to the witch in the next portrait with a feeling of dread.

"Ten Galleons," the witch said, holding out a withered hand expectantly.

The Fat Lady vowed to never make a bet on a couple again.

* * *

**A/N Any ideas on what I should do next? FYI, right now, it's January of their seventh year**.

**And before anyone points this out, the reason the Fat Lady didn't notice James and Lily were going out before now was because they had been trying to keep their relationship a secret**, **except from their closest friends.**


	19. ixx

**A/N Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Hi guys! I would like to thank Roza Chameleon Redbird, CSI. Vikki. HP, dancergirl7, TheGirlWhoReadsWarriors, JazzPotato67, GoddessofYouth, EscapedReality, snowvet, Rosicleide, and Nabakza for their reviews.**

**

* * *

**

**And There They Go**

"Come on!"

The Fat Lady felt herself violently shoved open as an exuberant Sirius Black leaped out with a shout of glee and yelled at his friends. She smoothed her hair and her pink dress, feeling indignant that her appearance should suffer because _some_ students could not contain themselves on Graduation Day. She had seen so many hundreds of Gryffindors leave her Tower for the last time, and she would be very glad to see this particular group go. At least she would finally get a good night's sleep. As she thought about this, she was shoved open once again, and found herself nose to nose with a portrait to her left. She apologized hastily to the startled occupant and swung herself shut to see the trademark messy hair of James Potter as he hovered close by, arm in arm with Lily Evans.

"This is it Prongs," Black said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The Fat Lady snorted. She had seen first years who were less fidgety.

"Yep. Good old Hogwarts…" Potter said, beaming. "We should make one more trip to the kitchens, kick Mrs. Norris one last time-"

"James! Don't you dare!" Evans said sternly. Potter laughed and leaned down to kiss her, and for a moment the hallway was silent except for the exaggerated gagging sounds that Black was making.

"You know, Sirius, there isn't any need to do that," Evans began. "If half of what Marlene says about you is true than you're worse than James-"

The Fat Lady's view was obscured for a moment as she was gently pushed open.

"Moony! What took you so long?"

"Hi Remus! Where's Peter? We have to leave soon, Dumbledore asked to talk to all of us, remember?"

"He's, er, puking in the bathroom," Lupin said, as the Fat Lady swung herself shut again with a sigh of irritation. If only they would all come out together! The rest of the seventh year Gryffindors had left at least ten minutes ago.

Potter and Black snickered.

"Again? This must be the tenth time he's done that since last night," Potter said.

"No, no, wait, it's the-thirteenth, " Black said solemnly, pulling out a scrap of parchment and a quill. "This beats the OWL and NEWT records altogether," he announced as Potter laughed and even Lupin allowed himself a small chuckle.

"No that's mean," Evans said, glaring at them. "Peter can't help it, he's just-"

The Fat Lady swung open again, and a green faced and clammy looking Peter Pettigrew stepped out, as Evans abruptly stopped talking, and Black stuffed his parchment back into his pocket and assumed an angelic face.

"I'm what?" he said suspiciously, looking from one Marauder to the other.

"Nothing, " Evans said hurriedly. "I was just saying how-how nice you look." Evans was evidently not practiced at lying, as Pettigrew seemed close to vomiting again. Potter broke the uncomfortable silence and slapped Pettigrew on the back.

"Come on Pete! It's time to get outta here. We're off to bigger and better things," he said, grinning. The Fat Lady watched the four Marauders and Lily Evans, grown up now, (so different from when she had first seen them! Time passed so quickly) walk away, dressed in their best robes, the torchlight shining on their neatly combed hair, their voices and laughter fading as they turned a corner and were lost from sight.

They were gone, and an era had passed.

The Fat Lady settled back into her frame and truly relaxed, for the first time in seven years. Then a horrifying thought struck her. What if the Marauders' children were just as bad as them?

Oh dear.

* * *

**A/N I want to focus on my studies for the next few months, so I may not update frequently. I'm starting my first semester of college, wish me luck! :)**

**And if you have any idea for future chapters, please go ahead and tell me. I love feedback x**


	20. xx

**A/N I don't own Harry Potter**

**I would like to thank CarraOlivia, jazi12amaze, snowvet, farwalker, dancergirl7, xOff-with-the-narglesx, JazzPotato67, AuntMo, and Dimcairien for their reviews.**

**Hi. Um, I know it's been a while, but I've had to deal with a really mean, crazy roommate who tried to make my life as bad as she could, and who was honestly a nightmare and...that took up a lot of time and stressed me out so much for the past few months. Luckily I'm moving away from her very soon. **

**But then I saw DH (which I really liked!), and I got inspired to write something…so here goes!**

**

* * *

**

**Gred and Forge**

The Fat Lady was taking her evening nap. Her head leaned against her frame, and soft snores filled the hallway. It was early in the evening, and most of the students were having dinner in the Great Hall, so she had seized the welcome opportunity. Then, as she shifted in her frame, finding a more comfortable position, she dimly registered a distant roar of fury…

"YOU FILTHY LITTLE SCUM! I'LL HAVE YOU FOR THIS!"

What? What was going on? And then a foul stench reached her nose, an awful odor, in fact it smelled like _dung._ And there was only one explanation for dung in the castle. She opened her eyes, ready to scold whichever student had dropped one of those terrible Dungbombs-

But there was no one there. Then she heard gasps of laughter as feet pounded along a corridor, and then the students themselves rounded a corner and sprinted toward her, stopping in front of her portrait to catch their breath. Freckled faced, both with flaming red hair and identical expressions of innocence (though their mouths were twitching as though they were about to burst into laughter at any second) the 11 year old twins Fred and George Weasley gazed up at her. The Fat Lady stared at them, exasperated. No sooner did the Marauders leave (and she had been enjoying a well deserved break), did these two identical new troublemakers arrive at Hogwarts, both seemingly intent on making her life, (and the professors') as miserable as possible. As she opened her mouth to scold them, since she was _positive_ they had done something wrong, she smelled the same awful stench she had earlier, but this time she was sure it was coming from them.

"Are-are you two smelling of _Dungbombs_?" she said, coughing. "What in the name of Merlin have you two been doing? And what are you hiding, Mr. Weasley?" she asked sharply.

One of the twins (she didn't know which) hastily put the parchment he had been holding behind his back.

"Nothing," he said, grinning up at her. "Just some old parchment." Next to him, his twin snickered.

The Fat Lady eyed him beadily. She was so sure he was up to something…

"Trust me, we would love to talk, but can we finish this conversation later?" One of them asked, giving her a winning smile. "We have-"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, because Sir Nicholas drifted up the corridor, pulling on his ruff, and glancing over his transparent shoulder.

"Boys, I would get along, if I were you," he said. "Filch is on his way, but I persuaded Peeves to drop a suit of armor to distract him."

The boy who was tightly clutching the folded parchment grinned at Sir Nicholas.

"Thanks Nick! Let's go, Gred."

"Right you are, Forge. See you later Nick!"

Nick nodded in acknowledgment (though he looked more amused than anything), while the Fat Lady gaped at him. Sir Nicholas, helping the uncouth rule breaking students of Hogwarts? And _Gred? Forge?_ Shaking her head in disbelief, she let the twins inside the Tower.

But little did she know that the twins had just acquired a little something they could use to wreak havoc even more effectively….

* * *

**A/N I love feedback as always. And tell me any ideas you have about future chapters! x**


	21. xxi

A/N I don't own Harry Potter.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

* * *

**Harry Potter**

"Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts!" Violet gasped, hurrying through various portraits of a group of shocked monks, an aged witch and a rather angry dog.

"What?" The Fat Lady asked, watching Violet shove aside the occupant of the portrait next to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"They're all talking about it, down at the Great Hall!" Violet continued excitedly, having finally reached the Fat Lady.

"Harry Potter? The son of that James Potter and Lily Evans?"

"Yes, yes, that's the one! The one who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Oh, my!" the Fat Lady said breathlessly. Yes, she remembered hearing about that. It had been a terrible tragedy. Young Potter and his wife were murdered one night by that feared, horrible, wizard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But somehow, their baby boy had survived the Killing Curse, and stopped the Dark Lord, and the Wizarding World had been safe for ten years. The Fat Lady felt proud that the boy's parents had been Gryffindors. Her House had, in a way, defeated the twisted House of Salazar Slytherin. It was a clear message that Gryffindors were a force to be a reckoned with.

But-

"Has he been Sorted?" The Fat Lady asked, trying to appear nonchalant. Of course the boy could not be in any other House than hers!

"Why?" Violet asked shrewdly. "Are you afraid he will be some other house? Such as Hufflepuff?"

"Of course not!" The Fat Lady said indignantly. "I knew his parents and they were in my House."

Violet eyed her for a moment.

"You needn't worry," she said, giggling. "I watched the Sorting hat place him in Gryffindor."

"I knew he would be, Vi," the Fat Lady said airily, waving her hand dismissively.

"I expect the students will have finished their feast by now," Violet added.

The Fat Lady did not answer her. She felt herself fill with excitement to see this boy. Would he have his father's messy hair, or his mother's dark red color? Would he have glasses and the roguish hazel eyes of his father or the startling green eyes of his mother? More importantly, would he have the same disregard for rules and troublemaking tendencies of his father? The Fat Lady hoped not. Merlin knew she was having a difficult time with the Weasley twins, and another troublemaker was _too_ much. But the poor child had grown up an orphan, and she had heard he was being raised by Muggles. What would he be like?

There was a distant thundering as the students began making their way from Great Hall.

"Oooh, they are coming now!" Violet said delightedly. She darted from the Fat Lady's portrait and rushed back through the other portraits, dodging their occupants. The Fat Lady watched as Violet vanished in a distant group of portraits, and knew that Violet was hoping for an early glimpse of Potter.

Well, the Fat Lady had an important job to do, and she could not go running off like that.

As she waited, a bundle of walking sticks suddenly appeared in midair at the very end of the corridor. The Fat Lady knew at once who it was, and wasn't amused.

"Get out of here, Peeves!" She said sharply. "The First years are coming!"

A rude cackle answered her, and the Fat Lady sighed. Perhaps the prefects could get rid of him.

A moment later, a small group of bewildered looking students, led by an important looking Percy Weasley, whose badge was glinting proudly, appeared at the end of the corridor. They all stopped walking as Peeves began throwing the walking sticks at them.

As Weasley threatened the poltergeist, the Fat Lady scrutinized the small faces of the First years for a hint of who might be Potter.

There! Next to a red headed boy who could only be another Weasley, a small boy with round glasses and a miniature version of his father's face stood gazing at Peeves. The Fat Lady noticed that while he certainly had his father's hair, he had his mother's vivid green eyes.

The poor boy! He looked so tired and confused. She doubted very much that he would cause trouble like his father. He looked so innocent.

Just then, Peeves dropped his walking sticks on a First year's head and zoomed away, rattling coats of armor. The noise brought the Fat Lady out of her reverie, and she smoothed down her pink silk dress as she watched the approaching students.

"Password?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes flicked over the students, and now she noticed that Potter had a thin scar on his forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightning. Where had that come from-?

"_Caput Draconis_," Weasley answered, and she swung open, obligingly.

The First years scrambled through, gasping at the magnificent common room within.

She tried to get a last glimpse of Potter, but he had vanished into the portrait hole. Ah, well. She had the next seven years to get to know him. It would be very interesting, indeed.

* * *

A/N Next chapter will be on the Chamber of Secrets!


End file.
